


June Solstice

by Kyrios (orphan_account)



Series: BNHA/HS Crossovers [2]
Category: Homestuck, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Karaoke, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:16:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13527942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Kyrios
Summary: “Get it, blasty,” Eijirou whispers. Katsuki flips him off.





	June Solstice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buffdaddy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffdaddy/gifts).



> more....... bakukat shenanigans........ with more to come. because i know ill just keep on making small additions till i got a novel length crackship collection.
> 
> anyway. TWO OF MY IRLS READ THIS. SO FUCK YOU BOTH. this is so embarrassing yall dont know how bad it is. you fuckers should help me do art homework instead. i coulda researched suprematism but i edited this instead.
> 
> as always, thanks to the lovely [azreto](http://twitter.com/Azreto) for letting me take his crackship into my grubby hands. <3

Katsuki thinks that, for all it’s worth, he’s developed pretty well as a human being in the past decade. Fifteen-year-old him wouldn’t let Ochako come even close to his house, let alone rummage through his drawers for clothes he only needs to wear because of her stupid wingwoman tendencies. But he’s a changed man, so he sits tight and waits for her to pick an outfit.

“Why can’t you dress like an actual adult man—ugh!” Ochako says, tossing what’s likely his only button-up at him.

“Cheeks, my ‘dressing like an adult’ involves my fucking hero costume,” Katsuki says. “In case you forgot, I don’t do self promotion in teen magazines. I don’t fucking need to dress fancy.”

Ochako turns around. The smirk on her face grows into an evil grin. “You don’t, huh?”

And fuck, she’s annoying, but she’s not dumb. Ochako knows everything there’s to be known about his hero career, including the day he got invited to Best Jeanist’s office after graduation. (He’d thought it was some kind of talk reminiscing about his first internship. It turned out to be an impromptu photoshoot. Ochako still keeps the goddamn pictures.)

“Fuck off,” Katsuki spits, because he hasn’t got anything on her. Pro hero Uravity is known for her open, sleepover-style interviews about her personal life. She says she wants to be a role model for her young fans. Katsuki thinks she does it because he can’t have any goddamn thing, not even blackmail material, on people he claims to hate.

“Anyway, you silly, mean goblin,” she teases. “Go get dressed! You have a date tonight!”

“I do?” He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah, I still hang out with dumbfucks who can’t get their fucking noses off my goddamn business.”

“You love us,” Ochako says, then leaves the room. Katsuki groans into his hands and contemplates the life decisions that led him to this point.

* * *

Katsuki and Ochako head together to the izakaya Mina’s booked. Karkat’s already there, right next to Mina, staring at her horns with unmuted disapproval. Katsuki’s mildly relieved to find his hostility isn’t a Ground Zero exclusive—he’s just a childish prick, and being a childish prick himself, he can definitely work with that.

He takes a strategic place right in front of Karkat. Katsuki’s pretty sure he’s not desperate enough to be distracted by the outline of his arms under the tight shirt he’s wearing.

“We’re doing nomihoudai then karaoke today! I hope you’re all ready for my beautiful singing!” Mina says, clasping her hands together. “Ei should be here anytime soon—oh! There he is!”

“Hey guys, sorry we’re late,” Eijirou laughs.

“We?” Mina cocks her head.

“I kinda needed a ride,” he says, sheepish gaze focused on the floor. As if on cue, Momo and Shouto walk in, definitely overdressed as always. Katsuki hates those pricks. They’re always hogging the goddamn spotlight.

“When did this turn into a fucking 1-A reunion,” he grunts, arms crossed tight against his chest.

“Never,” Mina says. “Because we have a guest! And you haven’t even talked to him yet!” She slaps Katsuki’s bicep like a scolding mother.

He glances at Karkat, and holy shit, guy’s got a murderous stare to rival Aizawa’s.

Katsuki realises he’s a hundred percent desperate enough to be distracted by Karkat’s arms, and needs to make an effort to actually look at his face and not elsewhere.

“Ground Zero,” he mutters. “To what do I owe your utterly despicable presence?”

Ochako snickers. Katsuki notices Eijirou sputtering out of the corner of his eye. Even Shouto, with all his mighty blunted affect, seems to be getting a kick out of the situation. God, he really does hate all of the people surrounding him. Except maybe Karkat—guy’s pretty alright—but he isn’t going to admit that anytime soon.

“I think the place needed someone to cancel out your fucking personality,” Katsuki spits.

“This is surely the most unorthodox form of flirting I’ve ever witnessed,” Momo says. Ochako hums in agreement.

Mina sticks out her arm between the two of them. “Okay, no more sexual tension,” she says, sliding a nomihoudai menu towards Katsuki. “We need to be ready to order! Deku and Tenya are on their way already.”

A voice comes from behind Katsuki just as he starts flipping through the pages. “We’re here!”

“Deku!” Ochako says, almost launching herself at him. Thirsty bitch, Katsuki thinks. He briefly considers saying it out loud before remembering his own predicament.

* * *

After their second round of drinks, Katsuki excuses himself to the restroom, only to be followed by Eijirou’s nosy ass.

Katsuki sighs. “You come to help me take a fucking piss?”

“Dude!” Eijirou grabs his arm. “Denki and Hanta couldn’t come, so I’m your only wingman for tonight, and it’s my job as a good friend and a good man to help you, okay?”

“What the fuck about my existence implies I need help,” he deadpans. “From you of all fucking people.”

Eijirou pouts. “You’ve been letting his cues fly over your head, man!”

“What cues are you even—”

“Exactly!” He spreads his arms, exasperated. “He’s been ogling you all night long, and if I have to watch this through another party, I might go crazy for real.”

“Well, what am I supposed to fucking do?” Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Hi there, shithead who hates me, please be my buddy?”

“Just—be nice, man! Show some interest! Touch his arm or something.”

When they rejoin the group, Katsuki takes the empty seat right next to Karkat. Eijirou flashes him a goofy thumbs up and grins.

* * *

They head from the izakaya straight to the karaoke room Momo had got them. The two establishments aren’t far from each other—they’d accounted for alcohol consumption when looking for places—but the few beers he’d had hit Katsuki harder than he’d expected, and moving in a proper straight line takes much more willpower than he’d anticipated.

It doesn’t help that Karkat’s right beside him, their arms bumping as they walk down the dingy alleyway. And Karkat’s buff—he’s got kind of a babyface, like he’d suddenly decided to hit the gym during his last year of high school. Katsuki resists the urge to lean into him for some kind of leverage.

He feels the warmth of Karkat’s arm before it actually touches him, wrapping around his tapered waist and tugging him closer. It makes Katsuki almost stumble, but Karkat’s firm grip keeps him upright, and fuck, he’s hot. It’s a very awkward position—Katsuki’s right arm is squished between his and Karkat’s bodies—but he’s still disproportionately aroused by it.

“Get it, blasty,” Eijirou whispers. Katsuki flips him off.

* * *

Karaoke with Mina is usually pretty fucking good. She relentlessly hogs the mic, which spares Katsuki from going in front of everyone and humiliating himself while drunk.

It doesn’t make any difference this time, because he’s still humiliating himself by sitting dangerously close to Karkat. And Eijirou’s right, Karkat is sending him (albeit mixed) signs. He’s had his arm around Katsuki through all of the off-key solos and the rounds of drinks, warming his already burning body from head to toe.

Katsuki wants to make a move, but Karkat’s so goddamn volatile he feels like a schoolgirl overanalysing her crush’s words.

“Her voice,” Karkat slurs, right into Katsuki’s ear, “is quite frankly about as pleasing as the idea of drowning in a fucking pool of horse semen while I wet myself in shame.”

How does he manage to sound hot while saying that, Katsuki wonders.

He leans in so Karkat can hear him properly, and also because he’s a self-indulgent fuck with no sense of self preservation. “Wanna get the fuck out of here?”

“Your underdeveloped shell of a fucking brain finally decided to work?” Karkat says, his grip on Katsuki even tighter for a second, before he lets go and gestures towards the door. “Lead the way.”

Katsuki ends up making out with him in a dark alley, to the sound of drunk passerbys singing, their height difference even more pronounced with how easily he hoists Karkat up and presses him against a brick wall.

* * *

 Katsuki finds a few things out:

  1. When his dick’s stealing his already alcohol-addled blood from his brain, he has a disproportionate amount of trouble going up flights of stairs.
  2. Karkat really, really likes it when he touches his horns, right at the base where they hide under his untamed hair.
  3. So much, in fact, Katsuki learns Karkat’s so goddamn needy that, after two rounds, he rolls onto the dirty sheets with no decorum at all and blacks out.



* * *

Katsuki hasn’t been this hungover since Mina stopped throwing weekly dorm parties behind Aizawa’s back.

He blinks the sleep out of his eyes, rubbing the crust away and trying to make sense of his surroundings. The furniture is unfamiliar and the bed feels way too small—oh, holy fuck.

It comes to him not in waves, but like a goddamn tsunami: Karkat Vantas is sound asleep right next to him, lips still pulled into a scowl even while unconscious. He feels terribly hypocritical, looking back on all the times he mocked Mina’s horns and odd skin tone. He’s very much attracted to those features now.  

His whole body feels sore, especially his ass, and at least he’s not prideful enough to avoid acknowledging he got fucked by the hot, choleric medical tech.

Katsuki runs his hands down his face, groans, and realises he hasn’t got the (previously stupid, now a genius idea) one night stand bag Mina suggested he carried around. Reusing the boxers he stained with pre last night sounds… Less than ideal.

He props himself up on his elbows so he can sit upright and scan the room for his belongings. It’s pointless, because everything’s a goddamn mess—there’s an alarm clock on the floor. Katsuki is pretty sure that happened when Karkat orgasmed the first time and reacted so weirdly he knocked almost everything off the nightstand.

Normally (which is almost never—hero duty doesn’t leave time for things like this) Katsuki tries his best to be as polite as one can be in a situation like this. However, he does still remember Karkat putting a finger to his face and telling him to get fucked.

So he steals a pair of shorts and a hoodie from Karkat’s messy wardrobe. It’s mostly out of pettiness, because the hoodie barely even manages to cover his navel and he’s much taller than Karkat, making the shorts look ridiculously small.

Well. It’s his revenge. (Also, Karkat’s clothes smell fucking amazing, but he’s not going to voice it.)

* * *

Despite his premeditated act of psychological terrorism, Katsuki’s still extremely considerate when he wants to be, so he goes to Karkat’s kitchen to make them both breakfast. There’s not a lot of ingredients, but if there’s anything Katsuki’s believes just as much as his vocation to be a pro hero, it’s his cooking ability.

Judging by what’s in his refrigerator, Karkat isn’t a traditional breakfast man. But that’s fine: Katsuki will play the part of the best goddamn housewife who has ever lived. He settles for an easy toast, eggs and sausage combo.

Halfway through cracking the second egg, strategically positioned to be the right testicle in the absolutely delicious dick-shaped breakfast he’s serving Karkat, he’s caught off-guard by muscled arms wrapping around him.

Karkat hasn’t gone through any magical post-pubescent growth spurts overnight, so he still has to crane up his head a little bit to rest it on Katsuki’s shoulder. Just to fuck with him, Katsuki bends his knees so they’re the same height. It gets him punched in the arm.

“Don’t be a fucking asshole,” Katsuki says, but his laugh makes his voice wobble.

“Who even gave you permission to put your repulsive hands on my clothes? If it was past me, that wasn’t me and I won’t rest until I find the fattest bull dick to wreck him until he’s got a lethal case of interspecies syphilis.”

He says all that while lazily kissing the junction of Katsuki’s shoulder and neck, shifting his right hand downward so it tugs at the waistband of Katsuki’s shorts, and it’s both extremely arousing and terrifying.

Katsuki switches off the stove. “Don’t like sharing clothes?”

“Not really, Ground Zero.”

“Oh, so I’ve been demoted to hero name basis?” He turns to face Karkat, their chests flush together, and he hopes it’s not noticeable just how much Karkat’s stupid fucking grumpiness makes his heart race. God, flirting is stupid and Katsuki hates it.

“I never even promoted you in the first place,” he says. “That’s only reserved for actual humans with interpersonal skills and worthy careers.”

“Better get bull searching then because past Karkat definitely did it.”

Karkat’s cheeks go a pale pink and he scoffs. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Why do it myself,” Katsuki smirks, “when I have a whole insatiable person to do it for me?”

Karkat’s grip on his hips tightens. Katsuki spares him the effort and hops to sit on the counter. It’s a terrible position—he has to slouch a little bit so his head doesn’t hit anything—but if his hungry gaze is anything to go by, Karkat must think it’s not bad at all.

Karkat takes Katsuki’s legs and hooks them around his waist, tugging him as close as possible. “Your lack of consideration for basic hygiene standards is fucking abhorrent, have I said that?”

Katsuki snorts. “Should’ve said that when you had your slimy dick up my fucking ass.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Karkat hisses, and leans in for a kiss so forceful Katsuki’s head bumps against the cupboard above him. That’s likely going to bruise, but Katsuki finds, with the amount of Karkat-induced marks already on his body, he doesn’t mind it in the slightest.

Especially not when Karkat Vantas gets on his knees for him, hair all messed up, and kind of asks, kind of demands Katsuki plays with his horns while he sucks him off.

* * *

Karkat accompanies Katsuki back to his flat after his creepy fish boss gets home. Guy’s weirdly volatile. He greets Katsuki like he’s just taken a shit on his desk and fucked his mother, but he hadn’t expected anything different from someone who lives with Karkat. What takes him off guard is the way he suddenly gets closer to Katsuki, winks and lowers his scarf to show he’s licking his lips.

“What the fuck are you doing,” Katsuki says, but Karkat drags him out the door before it escalates.

“Eridan’s a creepy fuck who will try to get with everyone he knows,” Karkat explains while they go down the stairs. “That’s just how it is.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow. “His shitty ass charm work on you?”

Karkat makes a retching noise. “No! God, fuck, no. That’s fucking disgusting. I’d rather be maimed alive than fuck Eridan.”

“Fucking chill,” Katsuki says, flexing his arm. “I know you only have eyes for this flawless physique.”

“You’re fucking insufferable, you insipid one-dimensional fuck,” Karkat says. “And I despise you with every inch of my being.”

“Not a whole fucking lot of inches,” he retorts. “In any sense of the word.”

Karkat kicks his shin.

* * *

**kk:** HEY.

**Katsuki Bakugou:** whos this

**kk:** YOU’RE AN ABHORRENT WASTE OF SPACE BUT YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY BE THIS FUCKING DUMB.

**Katsuki Bakugou:** dont know you sorry

**kk:** FUCK YOU.

**Katsuki Bakugou:** then come over

**kk:** On my way!

**kk:** FUCK AUTOCORRECT.

**Author's Note:**

> MORE GENERIC BORING COMMENTS:
> 
> i reached act 6!!! what the fuck is going on. idk but i LOVE IT.
> 
> my twitter is still @hellites feel free to come over & watch me talk about Education and Crackships
> 
> :DDDDDDD also tysm everyone for the LOVELY comments on northern tropic, they made me so so happy i just had to rush another short lil thing <3 thank you so much!! seriously!! thats the best feedback ive ever gotten on any fic ;a;


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